


Cut Like Marble

by kylocatastrophe



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Gills, In Which The Humans Of Naboo Are Not Human, M/M, Not Beta Read, Not Human Kylo Ren, Porn with Feelings, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles, Xenobiology, Xenophobe Hux, but not mermen, during and post canon, hux gets the fuck over himself, just like the Skywalker legacy has aliens in it now, oh yeah the dick glows, sort of canon compliant, technically it's internalized and externalized xenophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2016-09-18
Packaged: 2018-08-15 15:09:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8061244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylocatastrophe/pseuds/kylocatastrophe
Summary: Kylo isn't human. The First Order operates on a strict outward human only policy as far as their officers are concerned. It doesn't really matter for Kylo, as an outsider, but the relationship he develops with Hux is concerning. Especially when Hux implies he wants it to become a two way avenue.





	

**Author's Note:**

> HEY Y'ALL SO I heard someone wanted glowing dicks.  
> And I needed to write some stuff for the Not Human! AU.
> 
> This happened. 
> 
> In one sitting.
> 
> Have fun y'alls.

Grey ashes, black robes, scuffed silver. Kylo donned these things, and treated them like armor. He hid himself in these things, wrapped himself up in a disguise. Like this, he could pretend he was like the rest of them. It didn’t matter so much with his Knights, but the Finalizer was a veritable pit of humans careening through space and the longer he spent away from his Knights - with these humans - the worse he felt. 

Kylo was never seen without his robes and mask, part of his image as the Master of the Knights of Ren. He could be found in the training levels, stripped down from his overcoat and flowing robes, but still covered head to toe and fingertip in black and grey, hard, but controlled breathing mechanized through the mask and vocoder, throat hidden behind the layered gorget that crawled up his neck. 

For how tattered his cowl was, he was very particular about the state of the rest of his robes. Kylo was always covered, and was fiercely careful that none of his precious seal was broken. His flesh had probably not seen light in ages, and this was something that Hux pointedly did not think about.

Kylo, on the other hand, wondered. He wondered what Hux would think of something like him as his co-commander. Nonhuman, but beside him in secret every day. Cycle in, cycle out, a low, humming presence. He felt like a liar by omission, but Hux did not need to know. Hux did not seem to care much at all about Kylo until he cornered him after catching that glimpse of his face in the audience chamber.

He’d lied and said the black of his lips was paint. A tradition. The choke in his voice didn’t translate as anything other than static through his helmet. Hux believed him with a touch of curious disdain. 

From there, things seemed to progress almost smoothly. Hux did not think about Kylo’s pale face and dark lips, not beyond their meetings in the dark, Kylo’s fingers wrapped around Hux, pulling him to completion while the General pressed back against him, against his clothes. He preferred not to undress, and Hux did not mind. Kylo got the impression he much favored him like this. Anonymous. Not the angles of cheeks and soft, black lips, or deep, sad eyes. 

Hux’s thin fingers pressed against Kylo’s mask when they were done, as if he could feel the shattered breaths from behind it. They trailed around the visor, traced the silver lines, blast marks and scratches, and then went down over his cheeks. His fingertips were just about to hook under the clasps when Kylo jerked back. “No.”

He fled. 

Fled to his own quarters. He had seen how Hux imagined him. Human. Like him. Like everyone else Hux ever knew. It made him feel filthy and wrong, like he didn’t belong; wasn’t suited to be there. Like he was Ben, again. Ben who was teased for the lines on his neck, the flesh between his fingers, and his big, dark eyes. He tore off his mask, robes, and threw them from himself. The vest was the last thing, and he hesitated, fingers twitching on the clasps, the straps that crossed over it. Kylo crouched down, and finally removed it, with much more reverence than the rest of his attire. 

He smoothed his hands down the mixed material of the vest before setting it on the table. The low humming ceased, and he breathed cool, recycled air in a sharp inhale. It was cold, and it shocked the damp skin along his ribs. Kylo stood and retreated into the refresher to indulge in a bath. He drew it to be warm, and sank in to soak. Between his ribs, his gills fluttered, filling his lungs with the warm water. He wormed down a bit deeper, eyes slipping closed. He stayed like that until the water cooled enough to pull a shiver out of his muscles. A low, wet whine left his mouth, and he bit into his lip with sharp teeth. Kylo pushed himself up, expelling the water from his lungs. It sluiced down his sides, back into the draining tub, leaving the slits between his ribs trembling briefly.

Kylo dried himself off, and redressed, avoiding his reflection. Covered up again, he ate alone in his darkened quarters with nothing but his freckles luminescing. He brushed his teeth, picked flesh from between them, and crawled into bed. Even in the brief exposure to the light in the refresher, his freckles were glowing bright again. He hid them under the covers, closed his eyes against them, and pretended he wasn’t covered in bioluminescent freckles, gills, and webbed fingers. He still couldn’t quite pretend that he was the soft, pink human thing that Hux imagined he was, as hard as he tried.

As a shape, he was mostly like them, but there was too much for him to ignore to really get himself match that image in Hux’s head, smooth ribs, muscles and bones, wrapped up in pinkish, pale flesh, some kind of generic idea of what a man looked like. The blurry likeness revolved in his mind, plucked from Hux. His skin was rather pale, but cast a more powdered purple color rather than red, and in some places, was stretched so thin it seemed translucent.

He closed his eyes against the slow, gentle pulsing light that his freckles put off once more, and turned his face into his pillows. Longing thoughts were pulling at his mind again, the needling want to feel Hux’s skin. He’d only removed his gloves once, in the dark, when he knew the moles on his hands wouldn’t glow. Kylo had reveled in the feel of Hux’s skin, gently kneaded his fingers into his stomach, pressed into the soft swell of his navel, until Hux made an impatient noise in his throat. Kylo replayed that in his mind as best he could, turning and folding inward to drift in the memory. Flashes of their recent encounter surfaced.

The idea that Hux would scorn him for what he was shouldn’t have made arousal spool up in his gut. In his weakness, Kylo let himself enjoy that, feeling it coil up inside him, winding tighter until he started to throb with the heat of it. He made a broken little sound when he mentally ripped himself away from the sensation and cleared his mind to a blank reset. He would sleep. He would forget about it.

Forget about the way the pointed tips of his ears got hot and his mouth got wet.

And he did, for a time, far too busy chasing the remnants of intel about the map, too busy trying to rid himself of other lingering guilts, too busy fighting an innately talented fledgeling of a girl, whose stolen lightsaber bit through his robes and into his flesh, opening him up to the frozen, darkening air. She had landed a blow that ruined his vest, and Kylo sprayed water from his mouth, not expecting the failure. It had already been aggravated by the bowcaster, but the lightsaber drained it entirely, water soaking into the bloody remains of his robes.

There was just enough sunlight left to darken the slivers of exposed skin near the wounds, and the moles on his face were putting off a pale glow as more and more of the star above them funneled into the machine beneath their feet.

Kylo snarled at her, bargained, bared sharp teeth stained with his own blood. When it was spread thin like that over his teeth, is almost looked purple.

All of that, and she left him on his side of the fissure, surrounded by snow stained deep purple-red, ice crawling its way up his robe and a torn shoulder. The pain had finally betrayed him then, turning abruptly from something that focused him, and instead, became something that tore him apart from within. It reached up with black claws and sucked his consciousness from him with the last ooze of blood. 

Hux found him with steam still rising from his wounds, frost licking at his lashes and lips, and a frozen side. That was the first time Hux could truly study him.

 

\-----

 

Kylo came to in Bacta. The tank was not a regulation medical tube, but was instead more of a vat, like a glorified aquarium. The transparisteel was extruded from a single piece to create a load bearing shape, but rather than a vertical orientation, it was laid out like a table. Like a fish tank.

Hux was there, and he was hardly startled by his presence. His anger burned at the back of Kylo’s throat, and part of him panicked, hoping the way the flesh between his fingers had filled in webs to his knuckles wasn’t obvious. Hux still managed to surprise him, tearing the mask from his face by yanking the tube away. His attempt to get up was forcibly aborted by Hux’s hands plunging into the solution, sinking in, up to his naked elbows as he held Kylo down. Kylo idly wondered why he wasn’t wearing his full uniform.

His head cracked against the bottom of the tank, and he felt briefly fuzzy. Fuzzy enough that his gills opened, and Kylo couldn’t escape the fruit-sweet mixture. It was a lot thicker than water, and felt horribly strange inside of him, but his body was pleased to find there was enough oxygen to comfortably breathe, despite this. Calm overtook him in face of Hux’s fury, and he almost missed the shock that caused him to slip and fall bodily into the tank on top of him. Bacta sloshed up, overflowing from the tank to slide down the sides and slop onto the floor in thick, fat drops.

Kylo made another attempt to sit up while Hux spluttered and fought to regain control, jodhpurs and tanktop soaked. 

“You filthy-” Hux shoved him back down, fingers scrambling for purchase on his chest. He froze when he realized Kylo had been under for rather a long time. When the froth cleared, Kylo’s gills were obvious, fluttering, and begged to be pegged as weak spots. Hux’s disgust rose in his throat again. Kylo thrashed when his fingers dug in, simultaneously in pain and uncomfortable pleasure. 

“Non human!”

The betrayal rolling off of Hux in waves made Kylo flinch more than the fingers drawing blood from the tender tissues between his ribs did.

Hux moved back of his own volition, and scrambled to get out of the tank. Bacta sloughed off of him, and Kylo used the room he was given to sit up. What remained in the tank was clouded by his blood, but the solution did its job, healing him. He coughed up what was in his lungs until his throat hurt, and his breath came with wheezes. Hux was still there, shivering, when Kylo finally pulled himself out of the tank.

“What are you?” Hux demanded, voice wavering only with anger. A note of hurt? Regardless, his voice still cut through the relative silence between them, punctuated by the heavy drops of slime from the both of them. 

“Nabooian.” His voice sounded rough, and Kylo wished he could make himself smaller. Pinker, soften the streamlines on his body. He was grateful for the medical briefs, but everything else about him was thrown into sharp relief, and Hux was hyper focused on it. Kylo felt it, his stare, flicking over each feature, his eyes, the dark purple sclera that made them look like singular black pits, lips just as dark, and obviously not painted. His ears, pointed, poking through his stringy hair. Marks on his neck, the closed gills between his ribs, claws, webbing, despite the fact that it was only half extended. He couldn’t even see the ridges of his spine, but Kylo felt like he could see clear through him, and though he obviously was not wiser about his anatomy, Kylo covered himself with his hands.

Kylo felt his cheeks heat, and darken to a purple shade. Something shifted in his feedback, and his eyes flicked back to Hux in time to watch his shoulders slump.

“You… lied to me, I thought-”

“You assumed I was.” Kylo hated how hopeful he sounded.

Hux’s nose wrinkled, and Kylo suddenly understood that this disdain and hatred was… internalized. His chest ached.

“You weren’t supposed to… know. I couldn’t help myself, you…” Kylo wanted to press his thoughts against Hux, press his feelings against that sharp whirlwind ripping through the General.

Rather than soothing, that snapped Hux back into his icy anger. “You took advantage of your anonymity. You lied to me by omission. You know my policy - the Order’s policy on non human….” He hesitated, and the facade shattered, scattering ice across the space between them, “Non human filth.”

His words were a chasm yawning between them, spitting fire from below, as if Starkiller was still beneath them, still dying.

Kylo knew his pain was showing on his face. It was still there even after the General left him with twin puddles of Bacta, and his heart strung out in the empty room, pinned to the spot where he stood.

 

\------

 

Kylo lost track of how long Hux pretended he did not exist any longer. He came and went on the fleeing vessel of the Finalizer like a wraith, no longer bothered by the General. The man even refused to answer summons at the same time, requesting solo sessions with Snoke at a different time, even different cycle in his avoidance. He felt his mind and presence the same as always, but it was the worst when they were together on the bridge. Outwardly, it was as if Kylo was not there. Hux did not look at him, acknowledge him, or speak to him. His mind, though, churned. 

Midst the panic and fear following their glorious defeat at the hands of the Scavenger, the Traitor, and his human father, Hux was… furtively researching. It was impossible to trace back to him, but Kylo felt it in his thoughts. The clinical interest became something squirming and private, equally loathed and lusted.

The frequency of the impressions began to irritate Kylo. It always happened during his meditation, at the end of the cycle, when he could feel Hux. He was like a heat lamp. Radiating and impossible to ignore. Closer, moving. His eyes snapped open moments before the door to his quarters did. Kylo stood up, closing the thinner robe over his body. He nearly toppled the vessel of water in front of him in his haste.

The door closed, and Hux stared in still silence for a countable time. Kylo numbered how many times he had swallowed, six times, separate from how many times he licked his lips, thrice. Hux blinked, and finally refocused on him. “Would you have ever told me?”

Kylo watched him, the way he stood still, and at attention, even when his uniform felt too tight. “You never wanted to know.”

He tipped his head, musing before he continued, “once, you did. You wanted to see if my lips were still painted.” Kylo had loved him then, had wanted to.

“You never let me see you.”

“I knew how you felt. There are rules.”

“You let me pretend you were like me. You knew what I thought…”

“I didn’t mind.”

“But you never…”

Kylo’s head tipped again, just a touch past home to the opposite side. Hux was fidgeting. He softened. “Who you were would have actually tried to kill me. I could never ask you to reciprocate, Hux. You would have been reassigned.”

Hux’s gaze snapped back up, and he looked like he was going to argue, but his shoulders dropped. “You didn’t want me to despise myself. I would have… if I knew,” he admitted quietly.

Kylo relaxed when Hux did, and returned to his seat on the floor, legs tucked beneath him. Hux did not want to leave yet, so he would let him stay until the thoughts bubbling beneath the surface boiled. They were still only barely steaming. He was still surprised when Hux joined him, having removed his stiff uniform jacket and shirt.

He let the silence grow thick with a mix of tension and apprehension. A string would have snapped, and Kylo could feel it waver in the air, trembling. Still, he returned to his meditation, feeling Hux roiling beneath his skin, deeper thoughts rolling and bubbling against each other, rubbing. He felt the hand hover close to his arm, then flinch back. He inhaled when Hux did, and held it when he spoke.

“I want to know you- no. I want to see.” Hux paused, and Kylo felt the way his brows scrunched, “I want to  _ see _ ,” he emphasised the word, and Kylo felt his meaning in his core. His face heated, cheeks coloring. 

Kylo opened his eyes, palms closing. “You want to see me like that? You know what that means?” 

“I thought I just wanted you as release. A body and a hand.” Hux removed his gloves.

He felt himself smile, and it wasn’t a soft or kind thing. “You found xeno porn.” Hux didn’t dignify his accusation with a response, but Kylo felt his back stiffen impossibly straighter. 

“You want to know,” Kylo said, voice dropping into a purr, “if my cock is really like that.” He delighted in the thoughts he dredged up to the surface with those words. 

Hux’s fingers twitched, and Kylo let his thighs spread. It was wholly inappropriate, and impossible to come back from. The path got even farther away when Hux shifted to face him.

“Yes, but… Do you have to keep them wet? Your gills?” He deflected it, dipping his fingers in the water instead. Hux touched Kylo’s chest, then slid his hand around to the gills, slicking them beneath his robe.

Kylo took a shaky breath, letting the robe slip. The slicked hand was caressing his side, tracing each gill seam. Hux had definitely seen something, because this was not meant to be something erogenous. He exhaled in a rush when the hand disappeared. Then there were two, both of them wet with water from the bowl. His thumbs rubbed over the topmost gill slit, and Kylo realized he was struggling to keep them closed.

His robe had fallen to his elbows, and they finally fluttered open for Hux’s wet fingers. Kylo shuddered, the sensation familiar, but with a foreign touch. He moaned, the sound guilty and choked. “They’re not-” He swallowed, “supposed to be touched like…” They closed against his fingers when Kylo had to breathe, and the pressure of the intrusions sent something dark and filthy to his groin.

“No, they aren’t,” Hux agreed, still rubbing the delicate fringes of flesh within, dark purple and blood rich.

But he’d been doing it anyway. Started after Hux had first jammed his fingers in, trying to claw him, gut him from between his ribs, and oh, oh it turned into something secret. The pressure in his lungs failed again, and Kylo was left gasping as Hux carefully fit his thumb and forefinger beside the filaments and stroked them. 

“But you’re bruised here… you’ve been doing it… because of me?” Hux was taking well aimed stabs in the dark, and he was always right. Kylo nodded, feeling tears prick at his eyes. Hux let him close his gills to breathe, and Kylo slouched forward. Wet fingers kept tracing the edges, smearing water and the slimy plasma that his body produced to try and protect itself.

“You’re wet, Ren.”

Kylo’s head came up with whiplash speed, mouth open to protest. He got Hux’s fingers shoved between his lips for his effort, and he was startled into another moan, it was just like when he- Oh. Fuck. Hux had been watching  _ him _ . He’d been so fucked up over it, Kylo forgot to disable the cameras. They were on the Finalizer now, not Starkiller. His quarters were monitored, and Hux… Hux watched him fuck himself, watched him wring the tension out. Watched him abuse his gills and suck the blood and plasma from his fingers, then dip them… 

He grabbed Hux’s shoulders, trying to push him back, feeble and without much strength. His chest was sore, and he had to breathe shallowly. There was a pulse, and then Kylo felt himself throb heavily. Hux was looking at him like he wanted to sink his teeth in and eat him.

“Please,” Kylo heard himself whine haltingly.

Hux stopped. “Please what?”

Kylo squirmed. This was everything Hux had never given him before, he couldn’t make himself ask him to stop. But he didn’t know if he could quite accept it either. His body won out, as his thighs split wide, displaying the damp bulge between them. “Keep going. Please don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop?”

Kylo huffed to hide another whine. “Sir. Don’t stop, Sir.” It sounded so strange without his vocoder. His breathiness came across without filter, the way his voice trembled was clear, and unmarred by static.

He was at least rewarded with fingers curling over him, just settling. Hux didn’t rub or massage him, and Kylo knew he could feel the ripple beneath the soaked fabric. Kylo really had gotten wet. There was no way around the biology of it, and he was so aroused it hurt.

“Keep your hands there. At your ankles, or I’ll stop.” Kylo moved, and Hux breathed praise, rubbing his thumb over a ridge he had found. A pale blue luminescence followed the path of his thumb, and flickered before fading. That seemed to be enough to really spike Hux’s curiosity, and he peeled Kylo’s briefs out of the way.

The ridge he had traced was on the side of the curled, tapered shaft. There were three of them, from the tip, and they disappeared into a glistening slit. Under Hux’s stare, Kylo felt himself push out further, and the ridges pulled away, secondary tendrils that puzzled into the main center shaft with pale, bulbous nodules. These had been what glowed when Hux touched them, the light pulsing through the translucent flesh, casting a blue-white sort of sheen in the shadows between them. They coiled against the primary tendril, and it was clear that Kylo was trying to keep them under control, but once Hux’s hand was within range, they wrapped around his fingers. 

Kylo howled, fingers gripping his ankles to keep himself from bucking. Slick was oozing all over Hux’s hand now, the tendrils exploring the shape and texture of Hux’s hand. The large one twisted against his fingers, and a clicking rumble built in his chest.

Hux was using both hands now, testing the give of the fleshy tentacles, winding them between his fingers, squeezing and stroking them. He didn’t seem keen on holding them long enough to let them curl in his fist, but still managed to wrangle all of them at once, meat of his pinky and palm against the wet slit. Pulling up and squeezing, Hux coaxed a bead of actual precum from within him. He had to grab the base with his other hand to keep them all together.

Really, Kylo wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t the warmth and heat of a mouth. Definitely not Hux’s mouth, lips closing around him even as they became a literal squirming mass. This was far beyond anything he could have remotely imagined Hux ever wanting, but his tongue was curling with the tendrils he was slowly sucking down. All he wanted was to bury himself and drive into his face until he swelled and came. He just couldn’t buck his hips without letting go of his ankles.

He settled for leaning over Hux, panting hard when he found the soft part of his mouth, and then beyond that, his throat. Hux pulled back before he could choke on them, and Kylo cried out, words lost. His hips felt tight, but he couldn’t let go of it. The throbbing heat only mounted while Hux breathed around him, almost but not quite rasping. There was too much fluid and slick in his mouth, dripping past his lips, picking up the glow, which had only gotten brighter.

Hux made another attempt, cheeks stretched, jaw slack. The luminescence was just barely visible, but it seemed like Hux was intent on taking all four to the widest point, the thickening bulb that was nestled at the base, right at the lip of his sheathe. The whole thing was plump with his arousal, flesh flushed and purple, made shiny by the slick.

His lips touched the curved swell, and the tips of the tendrils were most definitely down Hux’s throat. It helped that Kylo kept trying to stretch into the convulsing heat, drawn in by his humming and swallowing. Pulling back partially, Hux paused to breathe furiously through his nose, and to tease Kylo with his tongue, suckling. There was nothing else for Hux to do but swallow the slick and pre that they produced, and the thought made Kylo jerk and cry again. 

Once more, Hux pressed forward, lips stretched over the swollen shape. It was as malleable as the rest of the organ, and fit in his mouth, pressing his tongue down. The feeling of Hux’s bruised lips against his slit was what tore his orgasm from his hips. His cock swelled, and he came deep in Hux’s throat, glow of the tendrils bright enough through Hux’s abused cheeks to cast light against his shoulders and Kylo’s thighs.

The force of it ripped a harsh scream from him, and left him panting and ragged over Hux, who was still trying to pull off of him. His tendrils were a lot more behaved now, though everything had spasmed in his mouth just before. 

Hux dropped his head against his thigh, heaving for breath. Gently, Kylo pulled him up, settling him between his legs. He was filthy hard, still clad in jodhpurs and briefs. Still, there was spreading warmth and darkened fabric from his leaking cock.

“You… you came and you’re still…” Kylo made a helpless noise, voice sounding like gravel. Hux couldn’t really get enough coordination with his tongue and lips to reply, but his hips twitched, and a needy, pathetic noise wormed out of his throat. 

He worked Hux’s clothes out of the way, and even though he knew he was sensitive, the swollen base of his cock kept him from retreating. It seemed like something Hux would want after everything he’d just put his face through. The high, broken whine was reason enough for him to curl the throbbing tendrils around Hux’s cock. Kylo hissed, reaching down to grab Hux’s hip and turn him closer. He rolled his own, driving up against him.

Shuddering pants and moans tumbled from Hux’s lips, mouth crushed up against Kylo’s shoulder, tucked there by the possessive hand at the back of his neck. Hux’s body suddenly let go with one of the secondary tendrils wound over his balls, and another pressed into the warm stretch of skin behind them. Kylo squeezed him through it, tendrils rippling, pulsing counter to Hux. Kylo was milking him, and smearing it until Hux was left limp. 

Kylo let his hips fall away, tendrils coiling against each other when they were left with nothing to curl around. 

He hated thinking that Hux looked rather beautiful like that, spit and slick and cum on his face, and even more smeared all over his hips, thighs, and belly. His mouth was slack, lips pink, a sick kind of gloss over them, red hair a mess, eyes a wildly pleased and frosted green. He was here without his grey ashes, black robes and scuffed silver, and it had been… more than fine.

Hux thought Kylo was a dick for not warning him.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find more depravity on my tumblr. same name. ;)
> 
> No regrets, no returns, and no refunds.


End file.
